


The Dreams That You Dare to Dream

by Jantique



Series: The Bar Over the Rainbow [2]
Category: Casablanca (1942), Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bittersweet, Loneliness, Lost Love, M/M, Multi, Rare Pairings, Wistful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4074337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody comes to Rick’s, if only to pass an evening thinking of someone <i>else</i>.<br/>Cameo appearances courtesy of NCIS, Stargate SG-1, Star Trek, Star Wars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dreams That You Dare to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a rewrite of “Beyond the Rainbow”, with new, improved characters. You absolutely do NOT have to read that first!

The proprietor of the nightclub stepped out of his office onto the small balcony, and surveyed the main room. Soft lighting shadowed intimate tables for two. Sometimes for one, before one and one became two. A bar serving drinks ran along one wall. The piano on wheels moved about as required to play that special song for whoever wanted it. A miniscule karaoke stage completed the room. He didn't concern himself with the casino in the back room--that was strictly business. This room was something more, was something special for him. This was a place for lovers to meet, a place where you could rail against/sigh over lost loves, and find new ones. People—and beings—who couldn't meet anywhere else came here. Anyone was welcome, provided they didn't break the furniture, and were quiet and showed some respect when some poor slob was up on stage singing his heart out. 

He straightened his white dinner jacket and looked over the room with satisfaction. It was still early, the room wasn't crowded, but several couples were sipping champagne cocktails. (The drinks could have been flaming, but they wouldn't have noticed—their eyes were locked on each other. As they should be.) Sam played background music on his portable piano. (No, not _that_ song. Louis didn't like it.) His lover stepped out on the balcony beside him, fastening his belt, and looked the scene over with more of an eye toward security than romance. 

Things were quiet for a while. Gradually, people came in. Some were regulars, such as the Air Force colonel and Very Special Agent “Tony DiNardo”. (Or so he said.) Apparently silver hair and military did it for the younger man. Doubtless the colonel wasn’t his first choice—but if he’d gotten that, he wouldn’t be here now. It was an off-night, though, and no one wanted to sing. Sam played "The Very Thought of You" and "It Had to Be You". 

He recognized the couple in the far corner, a man with sandy brown hair wearing a gold shirt with what he'd been assured were Captain's stripes. (However, that was some sort of Navy. An Army man himself, Captain Renault naturally held the other services in disdain.) His companion was tall with black hair, wearing a blue shirt. He looked mostly human, except for his ears. Well, you got all types, nowadays. Rick welcomed them all. Renault knew from experience that those two wouldn't cause trouble themselves, but if a good fight started, they would wind up in the middle of it. 

The soldier-of-fortune type was leaning against the bar, gesturing animatedly at the fair-haired man in white robes. (The latter's sword, or whatever it was, had been checked at the door. No weapons allowed.) Brother-in-law, HA! Louis knew something about women. Either the sister didn't know what was going on, or maybe she did, but either way, sooner or later there would be trouble. Hopefully not here. 

He touched Rick's arm. "That one, sitting alone. He's military." He pointed toward a tall man with black hair drinking beer, making circles on the table from the bottle's condensation. Occasionally he added squiggly hair lines to the circles. 

Rick cocked an eyebrow. "Do you have a fraternity? You can all recognize each other?" 

"I happen to be a trained observer of human nature. He's American, too." 

"Thanks, I figured out _that_ much myself." 

A shorter man with a goatee walked over to the piano and spoke to Sam for a minute. As he seemingly made several requests, Sam shook his head to each one. Sam limited his repertoire to the music _he_ liked. Finally, Sam apparently made a suggestion. The man shook his head back and forth dubiously, then nodded. He climbed onto the stage and took the microphone. He sat on the edge of the stage, his legs dangling over. He was wearing a black T-shirt with a well-worn, almost indecipherable design on it and black jeans. Sam wheeled the piano over the side of the stage and began to play. In a hesitant voice, the man started to sing. 

_Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high,_  
_There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby._  
_Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue,_  
_And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true._

The black-haired man put down his beer and looked up. The song had caught his attention. He watched for a minute. He had wild, black hair; Danny had tempting blond curls. But Steve had seen him before, talking to people at the bar, all excited, waving his hands to emphasize his point. Danny was like that, always ebullient. He looked needy—Steve snorted to himself. Which of them here _wasn’t_? Oh, yeah—this guy might be available. Danny firmly, definitely, Forever WASN'T. Yeah, this guy was nothing like Danny. 

_Someday I'll wish upon a star_  
_And wake up where the clouds are_  
_Far behind me._

It didn't matter how far you went, Steve knew. He'd been all over the world, and never known what he was looking for. When he found his heart's desire in his own backyard—hell, in his own HOME—he hadn't been able to get close enough to touch it. He might as well be on the other side of the galaxy.

_Where troubles melt like lemon drops_  
_Away above the chimney tops,_  
_That's where you'll find me._

He wasn't here looking for sex—at least, not just sex. He'd tried the quick, anonymous fuck route, keeping his eyes closed and pretending with all his might. That didn't work any more. He wanted someone . . . oh, not the next love of his life, but someone . . . he could keep his eyes open and look at. That wasn't a lot to ask for, was it? He was lonely. Maybe this guy was, too. They could be lonely together. He got up and walked over to the stage.

_Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly._  
_Birds fly over the rainbow—why then, oh why, can't I?_

The singer looked up. Hazel eyes met whiskey brown in a sudden flash of recognition, a heartbeat-skipping shock of seeing someone you've never seen and _knowing_ , not the unimportant details of name or nationality, but knowing that this person is the One. One of the Possible Ones. Had you but world enough and time, you would drink him in forever and never leave his side. Or pass in the night, it could go either way.

The young man slipped off the edge of the stage. He was taller than Steve had realized., taller than—He shut off the thought. The other man quirked a grin. "Hi, I'm Tony Stark."

McGarrett swallowed. He was having trouble remembering his own name. "Steve McGarrett. Would you like to dance?" Sam segued into “Avalon”.

They held each other, wondering. This was a place where you left your personal history outside. But it was difficult to leave the past behind. Tony said knowingly, "So, who's Mr. Wrong?"

Steve grimaced. "My partner. _Work_ partner. He has a black book of names just a little thicker than the HPD's Known Criminals list. And _every_ name in it is female."

"Ouch."

"You?"

"Oh, I'm in love with this guy ... a soldier. Army. Funny, his name is Steve, too. And the thing is, he’d probably sleep with me if I asked him to, because he’s _just that kind of a guy_. But he has his own lost love, and even a dick like me … I just can’t use him like that.” He took a breath, and looked in Steve's eyes. "But anyway, he's not here tonight, and—" sudden flash of a cocky grin "—I am." Steve pulled him closer, grinding their bodies together. They'd find a private room, but later. Right now they both just needed to hold, and be held.

Rick and Louis took a last look around the room. Satisfied, they went back up the stairs into the office. Steve and Tony clung to each other, slowly swaying as Sam played "Ne Me Quitte Pas". They had a few hours, maybe the rest of the night. It wasn't enough. It was all they had. 

_If happy little bluebirds fly_  
_Beyond the rainbow--_  
_Why, oh why, can't I?_

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> And remember: If you can't say anything nice ... leave kudos!


End file.
